


Muggle Magic?

by charmed310



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed310/pseuds/charmed310
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for mini_fest 2014 on LiveJournal.</p><p>Harry and Draco are hosting Christmas lunch in their new home and Harry wants to decorate The Muggle Way. Draco is not impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muggle Magic?

It was the Sunday before Christmas when Harry approached his boyfriend’s study with purpose albeit apprehensively. He was quite certain that Draco was going to give a very vehement ‘Fuck no’ at his suggestion, but perhaps his terms of the deal would be enough to earn him his wish.

Harry knocked on the door and pushed it open. Draco was sitting at his desk, glasses (which he was now forced to wear, much to Harry’s amusement) perched on his nose, reading through a pile of parchment concerning his latest case.

‘Hi,’ Harry said softly. ‘May I come in?’

Draco barely nodded and Harry was thrilled. Distracted-Draco usually meant that Harry was going to get his way whether his boyfriend liked it or not.

Harry sat down in the chair in front of Draco’s desk and watched him, waiting until he looked up.

It would happen eventually.

Harry had just finished arranging Draco’s collection of paperclips on the desk into the shape of a Snitch when Draco finally raised his eyes and removed his glasses.

‘Sorry Harry, what did you say? I’m a little bit swamped -- bloody infantile claims, and right before Christmas…’ He trailed off upon seeing the bored look on Harry’s face. ‘Sorry, sorry. What’s going on?’

‘Funny you should ask,’ Harry said deliberately. ‘I want to decorate the house for Christmas. We’re doing the lunch this year and I’d like it to be special, which means I want your help.’

Draco frowned. ‘That’s it? Just, you know, wave your wand and it’ll be done in five minutes. What do you need my help for?’

Harry paused (all right, _dithered_ ) ‘On to my next point: I want to do it without magic.’

Draco, as expected, laughed out loud. ‘Without magic? Whatever for? It’s what we were born to do!’

Harry chose this moment to put on his best wounded-child face (he’d practised in the mirror), knowing it would appeal to Draco’s sensitivity. 

‘It’s just… I missed out on the _simple_ joys of Christmas when I was little, and I thought it would be nice for us to do it together. It _is_ our first Christmas in this house after all. The house you and I bought. Together.’

Draco watched Harry uncertainly, leaning back in his chair and rubbing the back of his neck. Harry could see the flush on his face. He hated to know that Harry had missed out on things that he had experienced as a child himself. Harry’s birthday parties had grown legendary over the last eight years since he’d told Draco he’d never really had one.

Draco also hated doing things The Muggle Way. Harry knew this. Draco knew Harry knew this. Still, Harry grinned at him.

‘Come on, Draco. It’ll be fun. Think of it as Muggle Magic.’

Draco dropped his eyes to the stack of parchment on his desk. ‘I really need to finish up before next week if you want me to be around for Christmas at all.’

Harry changed tactics. He got up from his chair and went around to Draco’s side of the desk and placed his hands on Draco’s shoulders, slowly kneading and massaging.

Draco groaned, his shoulders relaxing under Harry’s hands. ‘Stop it.’

Harry bent low next to Draco’s ear, softly closing his teeth over the lobe. Draco shivered and goose-pimples rose on the back of his neck. ‘If you help me decorate the house _without magic_ , I promise I’ll make it up to you.’

Harry slid his hands down Draco’s chest, smoothing the fabric of his jumper, and kissed his cheek.

‘I’ll see you downstairs in ten minutes.’

***  
By the time Draco had gathered himself together after Harry’s lust-filled promises and made it downstairs, Harry was pulling on a cloak and scarf clearly getting ready to go out.

‘Where are you going?’ Draco asked, appalled that Harry thought for one moment that Draco would be doing this himself. Hadn’t he just made a fuss about being _together_?

Harry looked up, his expression hard and worried, and Draco’s heart sank. 

‘I just got an emergency owl. Baby, I’m so sorry, but I have to get to the hospital. I don’t know how long I’ll be. One of the Aurors got badly injured and I have to see to her family and get the report in.’

‘Oh, god. I’m sorry.’ 

Harry smiled slightly. ‘I guess we’ll just have to do this by magic later on,’ he said. ‘I’ll owl you if I need to stay on for the night.’ 

‘I wish her a very speedy recovery,’ Draco said.

Harry kissed him goodbye and Disapparated with a soft pop.

Sighing heavily, Draco thought that perhaps he’d go back upstairs and get some work done. On his way to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, he peeked into the living and dining room to see several cardboard boxes laid out on the floor, all labelled with things like ‘Lights’, ‘Decorations’ and ‘Tree’.

Curious, Draco went in and opened the box that said ‘Lights’. A tangle of green plastic wires with tiny coloured bulbs was inside and Draco shuddered and closed the box quickly. Muggle electricity had always frightened him a little bit. Like uncontrollable magic. He’d wait for Harry to get home before he tackled that one.

He moved on the box that said ‘Tree’. Amidst the false plastic branches (honestly, couldn’t they have got a _real_ tree?), lay a sheet of paper with written instructions and a diagram. 

A wild idea struck Draco just then: Maybe he _could_ decorate the place without magic. It would be a wonderful surprise for Harry when he got back from the hospital. And all right, maybe he wouldn’t do _everything_ considering the mess that was the Lights, but he could follow instructions written on a piece of paper.

Abandoning the thought of tea, Draco instead went straight for wine. He selected a bottle of his favourite vintage of red from the small cellar they had built, and was about to raise his wand to open the bottle when he paused. Shrugging, he resigned himself to the deficit of magic for the duration of the evening and looked around in the drawer of the sideboard where he knew Harry had once thrown a corkscrew.

With some effort, the wine was opened and poured and Draco took a hearty gulp. He turned on Harry’s stereo by pushing each button once until the little lights flickered, and now Muggle Christmas-themed music played softly, and he found himself feeling quite festive. 

Draco turned and faced the boxes on the floor and squared his shoulders. ‘Right. Tree.’ 

An hour and a half later, Draco sat on the floor of the living room covered in fine glittery dust surrounded by at least five thousand individual branches and an almost empty bottle of wine. He would have been better served getting back to work.

The Christmassy music and advertisements between each song had long since become tiresome but he couldn’t remember which button to push to turn it off and his fingers were red and aching from _fluffing_ each branch for the nine-foot tree Harry thought had been sensible to buy.

Draco drained his glass of wine and got slightly unsteadily to his feet again. He had managed to erect the stand upon which each branch was to be placed and now picked up the instruction page again where the diagram showed the steps to attach the branches to the base. 

_Place each marked branch into slot with corresponding letter._

Draco closed his eyes in horror. 

‘Bloody fucking hell,’ he muttered.

So that’s what those stupid coloured plastic things were for. He’d noticed that each branch had a coloured marker on its base, but had been so preoccupied with _fluffing_ them, he’d failed to realise their purpose. Now he knew.

Next year, he’d be buying a _real_ tree.

Draco looked down at the mess of green, itchy plastic at his feet and sneered at them. He was done. ‘Fuck all of you.’

He poured the rest of the wine into his glass and took the bottle to the kitchen to put in the bin. He returned to the living room and picked up his wand to clear up, and paused in the act again. Harry would pretend to be pleased that Draco had started decorating, but in reality, Draco would feel like he’d let Harry down by not giving more of an effort. The least he could do was finish the tree.

Taking a deep breath and a deep drink of wine, Draco sat back down and began sorting the branches into their proper piles.

***  
It was after midnight when Harry returned home from St Mungo’s. His Auror, Christie, after giving them all quite a scare reacting to the curse she’d been hit by had made it and was resting comfortably with just one scar to show for it.

Expecting the house to be dark and quiet, Draco ensconced in his office or in bed, Harry was surprised to see lights on in the hall and the living room. And was that music? Yes, that was definitely Muggle radio. 

‘What the hell?’ Harry muttered.

He hung up his coat and scarf and toed off his boots, frowning. 

‘I hate you! You were working two minutes ago!’ 

Alarmed, Harry hurried into the living room to see what all the fuss was about. 

There, beside the half-lit Christmas tree and surrounded by a large pile of Muggle fairy lights and four boxes of tree decorations, stood Draco. He was red in the face and was shaking the string of lights furiously. It seemed that half of the string was lit up and the other half had obstinately refused to participate.

Harry couldn’t help but smile. He knocked on the wooden frame of the arched doorway to the living room and Draco started and looked up. His face plainly showed relief to see Harry had come back.

‘Everything all right in here?’ Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘Harry! Thank God you’re home! I don’t know what happened - one second they worked, and the next they just _stopped_! And only half!’

‘Hmm, let’s see, let’s see,’ Harry said as he came into the room. He took the lights from Draco and threaded through them gently, looking for the first bulb that had stopped working.

‘Want me to show you some magic?’ 

Draco rolled his eyes. ‘Harry, get a grip. If I’d been able to use magic at any point during this- this- _exercise_ I’d be--’

‘OK, relax. Just let me show you. Did you happen to see a little plastic bag with extra bulbs anywhere in there?’ Harry gestured to the box marked ‘Lights’.

‘Err, perhaps?’ Draco began to scrabble through the box. ‘Ah-ha! This?’

‘Yup.’

Harry selected a replacement bulb. ‘And if you wouldn’t mind, a pair of scissors?’

Draco left the room and made a noise of incredulity but returned with a pair of kitchen scissors.

‘Please be careful,’ Draco warned. 

Harry removed the blown bulb carefully with the scissors and took a new one from the package. He pushed it into the slot and the whole string of lights glowed brilliant yellow.

‘Voila.’

Draco, it seemed, couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. Harry put it down to the fact that he’d probably had a large amount of wine and the little things had begun to make him happy.

‘That was _amazing_.’

Harry laughed and gently placed the lights on the ground. He pulled Draco towards him and kissed him.

‘Nah, you’re the amazing one. All this with your own two hands?’

‘Blood, sweat and tears,’ Draco said tiredly. ‘Oh, and wine.’

‘Of course.’ Harry gave a wicked grin. ‘So, I believe I promised a reward of sorts if you decorated without magic.’

Draco bit his bottom lip enticingly. ‘I’m very ready to claim, but I haven’t finished yet.’

Harry looked around the room and, even though there was still a fair amount to do, felt his mood lighten even more. It meant more than he wanted to admit that Draco had thought to do this for him, especially since he wasn’t there himself.

‘I think we can leave it until tomorrow. I’m anxious to give you your reward.’

Draco pretended to look troubled. ‘Are you sure? I can wait.’

‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Harry said. He took hold of Draco in his arms and turned, Apparating himself and Draco straight to their bed.

‘But I can’t.’


End file.
